Engrave
by Strong123
Summary: Thunder broke out through the room. The storm, it was almost here. The sounds of the guests in the other rooms were muffled by the thick walls that kept her out of the outside world. The outside world? What was that anyway? A phrase.BrBl I dont own PPG.


Engrave

Gray ceiling. Real or not it was nothing more but a ceiling. A ceiling, right? Heavy clouds drowned the blue emptiness of the sky. They absorbed the wetness of the earth like a sponge, now that sponge hung overhead. It was threatening. Threatening in that silent way it had. The ceiling stretched on until forever. How that forever seemed to drop on people's shoulders. Their backs bent and their faces strained. Strained with the hope that someone would fight back the darkness and knowing that no one would. Nothing broke the silence of the atmosphere. Nothing, that is, except the silent singing of the curvy wind.

No. A wedding wasn't supposed to happen on such a day. Time was supposed to stop on a time like this. Let it pass, let it go, let it be. It was more like a funeral than a wedding. A funeral of one love, and the birth of another.

She touched the soft fabric of the pearly white dress. The silk sang with the craving to be touched gently, and to be appreciated. Her bare feet moved from left to right as she examined her small figure in the mirror. She was getting annoyed at the signs of greasy fingertips that had touched it before. The mirror radiated the foggy mood that surrounded her.

Thunder broke out through the room. The storm, it was almost here. The sounds of the guests in the other rooms were muffled by the thick walls that kept her out of the outside world. The outside world? What was that anyway? A phrase. There was no such thing as an outside world. We are all trapped in time and space. Space that we don't even understand. All of us, and we ignore the problems, we block them out because they force us to show our secret side- the side that we don't want to admit we have. Chained in our own desires. Such chains have not been made, they are in our minds, in our souls. They prevent us from moving on, from finding what we must. No, not finding. From keeping what we must. We loose all compassion as soon as we turn to the storm, all sink in our own selfish territories, where no one else belongs.

She let go of the silk and rubbed her fingers against each other. They felt rough and used, no longer needed or fine. Lines of her own identity running through those fingers. One would think that by touching their identity they could get an idea of who they are. She knew this was false. She knew many things. She was too smart for her own good, way too smart. People didn't understand the complexity of her mind and the ideas it brought forth.

Crazy! They would call her that. All of them would. Silly humans with their small brains and closed minds didn't know that things are not what they seem. She was not one of them. She knew, she knew all too well. Her mouth wouldn't let her speak but her brain pined for a word. She wanted to tell them how wrong they are. She wanted to warn them about what was coming. It was coming so fast. They wouldn't know what hit them. Pain, hopeless dreams…all that would come and go and the people would be left with nothing but a corpse of the life they used to know so well.

She would stare out that same window. The window decorated with spiders' webs. In and out they went. She would stare out that same window just to see the faces of people walking by. They were painted with different emotions. But mostly, she looked for those who knew what she was going through. She looked for those who had that look upon their faces. The ones that tried to get everyone else to realize their mistakes. Angels? Maybe.

She was an angle. Of this she was more than sure. The others would regard her as incapable, as if she had lost her touch with sanity. What was sanity anyway? An idea. That is all…an idea that people depended upon so dearly. She only wished she would tell them what she saw, she only wished to get them to see that image. The image that drove her out of her place in the world. She knew she didn't belong in this world anymore. It was a separate state-of-mind she belonged to now.

She walked back to the mirror and touched its smooth surface with her skinny fingers. "So young and she is like this…Cruelty!" Some would say this when they met her. She enjoyed those words for all the wrong reasons. People could be so small and unimportant and yet they thought they had it all. She would stare them straight in the eye and they would flee. How silly.

Her grip tightened around the edges of the large, ancient mirror and with a strong, swift movement she brought it down. Sky and earth met with thunder as the mirror shattered on the cold stone floor.

She felt small pieces of broken glass touch her cold feet. Her hair curved and sang with the wind. The red hair many called a gift from the heavens. Funny, they knew what heaven was? Those sold souls dared to talk about the heavens.

That image played in her mind over and over again. A boy of around 17 falling over the edge of a cliff. A cliff that touched heaven and hell. He was falling through time, he was cutting the air with his body as he kept on falling. There was nothing she could do about it but look. At that moment she had struggled to keep on to consciousness. His body made contact with the dusty earth. The earth that radiated heat on that summer day. His body touched hell as his soul went to heaven. Her love-gone-dead.

And today she was marrying him.


End file.
